by Jane Jamison
“She’s over—”
“There.” Tatum was off and running toward the farthest wall.
“How the hell did she know?”
“Beats the hell out of me, but does it matter now?”
She barely heard Adam’s answer to Marc’s question because she was so focused on finding Stacy. Pausing to listen again, she narrowed the area of the search to behind a stack of boxes. Taking it slowly so she didn’t startle the distraught girl, Tatum eased around the end of the boxes and found Stacy sitting on a single box, holding a cell phone.
“Stacy? Are you all right?”
Stacy inhaled a quick breath that did nothing to stop her crying. Her tear-streaked face tore at Tatum’s heart. She motioned for the men to stay back then crossed the few steps to kneel in front of the distraught girl.
She tried again. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” As if she didn’t already know. Doug Harmon was Stacy’s problem. Once the girl got rid of his sorry ass, she’d be better off.
A shuddering sob racked Stacy’s shoulders as she held out her phone. Tatum took it and stared at the photo attached to a text message. Doug grinned into the lens. But he wasn’t alone. A girl sat on his lap, and she was obviously riding Doug’s cock. Two other girls, topless, their huge breasts thrust against his face, flanked his sides.
“Oh, Stacy, I don’t know what to say. Why would he send this to you?”
Stacy shook her head, glanced at the photo, and broke into fresh tears. She pointed at the phone and said something that Tatum couldn’t understand.
“Do you want me to read the text message?”
Please let him have dumped her. She’ll hurt now, but she’ll be better off in the long run.
The message, however, didn’t give Tatum what she’d hoped for. Anger flashed like a wildfire as she read the text.
Hi, BOM,
Glad ur not here. Fuckn this grl is gr8.
If ur good, I might f u 2nite. If I close my eyes. Lol.
D
Tatum strangled a curse and reminded herself that Stacy needed her to stay calm. Getting angry might scare Stacy away from finally making the right decision. “What does BOM mean?”
Stacy sucked in a big gulp of air then blurted her answer out in a rush. Sobs shook her body again.
“Oh, hell.”
Marc put his hand on Tatum’s shoulder. “What’d she say?”
“She said it means ‘Bitch-Of-Mine.’” She shot him a look that told him to ease off, and he did, literally backing around the stack of boxes.
Tatum turned off the phone and sat down beside the poor girl. “Stacy, what more proof do you need? He’s a creep and a lowlife. Please, please, come to my house with me. I promise you my father will be more than happy to have you as our guest.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No. Doug will get mad if I’m not there when he comes back.”
The words “who the hell cares what Doug thinks” were almost out of her mouth before she managed to hold them in. Instead, she nodded as though understanding and took Stacy’s hand.
“Listen. I think Doug’s going to stay out a lot later than you think, and I hate to think of you sitting alone in that cabin. Let’s call it a Girls’ Night In. We’ll drink a little wine, watch a movie, do anything you want to do. What do you say? I need some girl time, so you’d be helping me out.”
Stacy rubbed her eyes, looking like a child instead of a grown woman. “I–I don’t know.”
Tatum took the opening and ran with it. “Sure you do. I tell you what. We can say the air conditioner went out and that you were too hot to stay in the cabin. That we made you move so we could get it fixed? Would that be better? He can’t get mad at you for wanting to stay where it’s cool, right? Especially when the owner insists? When he gets back to the cabin, he’ll find a note telling him that you’re sleeping in the main house and asking him to sleep in the smallest cabin. It only has a twin bed, but it does have cable television which, hopefully, will keep him entertained. Plus, we won’t stay up too late, and that way you’ll make it back to the cabin before he wakes up in the morning.”
Stacy sniffed then wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. Embarrassed, she cast her gaze down and sniffed again. “I don’t know.”
Maybe all she needs is more of a push. Standing, Tatum took Stacy’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She wrapped her arm around her shoulder and winced at how bony the girl was. Didn’t Doug allow her to eat? She wouldn’t put it past him if he’d put her on starvation rations. Leading the way, she brought her around the corner of the stack and paused, raising her eyebrows at the men to separate and let them pass. “The guys will take care of the air conditioner and the note to Doug while I take care of you.”
“Will do,” answered Marc.
“Come with me, Stacy. I think tonight calls for chocolate chip cookies.” She ushered her several feet toward the barn door then craned her neck around to look at the Shelton brothers, who had started to follow them. “Sorry. No guys allowed. The cookies are for girls only.”
* * * *
Tatum had always been proud of her father, but she was even more proud of the way he’d welcomed Stacy into their home. He’d taken one look at the girl and had welcomed her into the house like she was a visiting dignitary. Without asking a single question, he’d made sure Tatum had everything she needed for Stacy and then disappeared.
A few minutes later, after the girls had finished getting into their pajamas, there was a knock on Tatum’s bedroom door. When she opened it, she found an old service cart holding a tray of goodies from chocolate to cookies to even the carrot cake that Tatum loved. Two mugs of warm milk along with a bottle of wine and two goblets sat on a second tray.
Tatum could almost hear her father’s voice. “Some troubles need milk and cookies while others call for a good bottle of wine.” He’d given her both to let her choose which was best for Stacy’s predicament. She wheeled the service cart into her bedroom. “Here we go. Room service just for us.”
Stacy sat huddled on the love seat in the corner of her bedroom. Other than mumbling her thanks for the use of Tatum’s pajamas, the girl hadn’t spoken a word. At the sight of the tray, she lifted her head and her eyes grew wide.
“Yeah, I know. It looks great. Come on and help yourself. But first, we have a decision to make. Will it be warm milk or wine? I know it’s kind of an odd choice, but it’s a Griffin tradition.” She held up one mug and the bottle of wine. “It’s your choice.”
Stacy darted her gaze between the two as though having a difficult time deciding. At last, she whispered, “Wine, please.”
“Wine it is.” Sure that Stacy wasn’t going to come to the cart, she pushed it over to her then took a seat next to her. She poured them both a generous glass of wine then scooped up a piece of carrot cake. “I know it’s not polite to eat cake with your fingers, but in my room, anything goes. Please eat up and enjoy, okay?”
Stacy took a small sip of her wine then reached for a chocolate chip cookie. She nibbled on the cookie, reminding Tatum of a scared bunny caught in a trap.
They continued to share the treats and had even started on their second glass of wine before Tatum dared to bring up the subject of Doug. She eased into it, realizing that tonight might be her last chance to help Stacy.
“I know how you feel. To some extent, anyway.”
Stacy grew stiff and set her glass and the half-eaten cookie back on the serving tray. She brought her feet onto the love seat and curled into a ball.
Tatum waited for her to speak then plunged ahead. “I had a boyfriend who used to treat me horribly. He didn’t hit me”—she paused at Stacy’s quick intake of air—“but he was verbally abusive. Sometimes I used to wish he’d hit me instead of calling me names and telling me that I wasn’t worth the ground I walked on.”
She resisted the urge to wipe away the tear tracking down Stacy’s cheek. “I thought for a long, long time that he was right. After all, my mother had told me almost the same thing all my
life.”
Stacy jerked her head to the side, her big, tear-filled eyes locked onto Tatum. “Your mother?”
Tatum fought back tears of her own. She wouldn’t let herself cry. Not when Stacy needed her to be strong. “Yeah. It sucks, huh? A mother should never make her child feel anything less than wonderful.” She dragged in a long, slow breath.
“My momma was great, so fun and so beautiful. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Tatum had to concentrate to hear her soft-spoken words. Lately she’d found she could hear better when she concentrated. It was almost as if her hearing had suddenly gotten more sensitive. “I bet she was.”
“But she’s dead now.”
She slipped her arm around the girl’s thin body. “I’m so sorry.”
“She died right before I met Doug.”
Tatum took a sip of her wine then set it down. She sensed that Stacy needed to take her own time in telling her story.
“My momma died suddenly from pancreatic cancer. My dad left us when I was born. I was all alone.”
Oh, hell. First her father abandons her then her mom dies. Tatum swallowed back a cry.
“That’s when I met Doug.”
He came into the picture when she was at her most vulnerable. What a scumbag.
“Doug treated me really nice in the beginning. He used to tell me how beautiful I was and give me little presents. If he hadn’t taken care of me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
“And then he changed?” Her thoughts flashed back to her first days with Roger. Hadn’t he done the same thing? He’d swept her off her feet and then, once she was hooked, he’d transformed into a hater, a monster hiding inside a human body.
“Y–Yes, I tried as hard as I could to make him happy, to make him love me again.” Her shoulders jerked with a great sob. “But now I do everything wrong.”
Tatum took both of her hands, shifting her body toward her. “Stacy, I know this is hard to get when you’re in the middle of the relationship, but you’ve got to understand. Doug took advantage of you and he’s still doing it. In the beginning when you were so alone and now when he knows you’re dependent on him. He’s got you so wound up inside that you can’t see how rotten he is.”
She shook her head. “But I deserve it. It’s not his fault that he gets angry. It’s mine.”
Tatum shoved her anger down, but some of it leaked into her tone anyway. “That’s bullshit. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be mean to you, but you’ve got to open your eyes. You aren’t doing anything to make him act like he does. What did you do to make him go out and whore around on you? And then to flaunt it in your face? Tell me what you did to deserve that.”
Stacy’s tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m not pretty enough. H–He said I’m not good in bed, so he has to get sex from other girls. I’m lucky that he keeps me as his girlfriend.”
Every awful word her mother had ever told her, every insult Roger had hurled her way came to the surface. Tatum pushed the serving cart out of the way, and got on her feet, bringing Stacy with her. “You’re not pretty enough? He’s telling you a bunch of crap to keep you with him.”
Pulling the girl along with her, she placed her in front of the mirror on her dresser and stood behind her. “Tell me, Stacy. If that wasn’t you in the mirror and it was another girl, would you think she’s pretty? Because you know what I see? I see a beautiful woman who has been beaten down emotionally and physically. But she’s still there, still beautiful, and the only one who doesn’t know it is her.”
Yet hadn’t she done the same thing? Hadn’t she ignored the real her, the one who could stand up to her mother and anyone else who dared to put her down? Ever since meeting the men she loved, she’d started noticing another side to her, a side that was confident and strong. A side that wasn’t about to let her mother or anyone else stand in the way of doing exactly what she wanted.
“Stacy, until recently, I felt the same way about myself. I believed what my mother and Roger said about me. But you know what? I know better now and I’m not letting them control the way I think any longer. In fact, I’m going to call my mother and tell her that I’m running my life from now on.”
How had she put up with her mother’s demands all these years? She’d acted like a child who still needed her mother’s approval and to keep her mother from berating her father. But no more. From now on, she would visit her mother if and when she wanted to. She’d also tell her that her dad wasn’t to blame for her new independence. Her father would, no doubt, deal with some fallout, but he could handle it. Besides, she’d make her mother understand that she wasn’t to berate her father any longer. And if she did anyway, then their relationship would suffer.
“That’s what you have to do. You have to tell yourself to stop accepting what Doug says and tell him to shove it up his ass. Once you do, I’ll bet you’ll see the terrific woman you really are.”
Stacy dropped her gaze and tucked her chin to her chest. “I–I could never do that.”
“Yes, you can. And I bet you want to, don’t you?”
It wasn’t more than a second, but in the moment Stacy lifted her gaze to Tatum’s, she knew that what she’d said was right. Stacy was aching to get rid of Doug. Only her fear was holding back.
Tatum wasn’t about to give up now. She pulled Stacy’s hair back, picked up her brush from the dresser, and started brushing her hair. The long black strands that hung in her face glowed under the overhead light. Highlights, hidden in the tangles of her hair, came out the more she brushed.
For the first time, Tatum could see all of Stacy’s face. Aside from the bruise on her left cheek, her skin was like fine porcelain china. Her skin was flawless, and her high cheekbones gave her the look models envied.
“Come on. I have an idea.” Tatum pulled her into the bathroom and sat her down at the vanity. “This is going to be fun. Just you wait and see. Now wipe away your tears and hang on.”
Working quickly, as though her hands couldn’t keep up with her ideas, Tatum took a curling iron to the girl’s hair and made large, soft curls that bounced every time Stacy moved her head. She pinned the sides back with simple silver clips then spun Stacy around.
“I’m going to put a little makeup on you, okay?”
Stacy shook her head, making her curls dance around her head. “No. I can’t. Doug doesn’t want me to wear makeup.”
She clutched Stacy’s shoulders. “I’m not going to do much. I’m going to give you a little color to your cheeks and eyes. Trust me. You’re going to look amazing.”
She could see the war raging as Stacy’s thoughts flitted across her face. She wanted to believe Tatum, but the idea of what Doug would say held her back.
“Okay, here’s the deal. It’s just us girls tonight, right? So let me do what I want to do, and if you don’t like it, you can wash it right off. Doug will never know. How about it?”
Stacy’s nod was so slight she almost missed it. But still, it was the answer she’d wanted. She got to work, making sure she didn’t use too much makeup.
By the time she’d finished, she’d impressed even herself. She smiled and stepped back to admire her creation. “Wow. I said it before, Stacy, and I’ll say it again. You’re beautiful. And trust me, you are way too good for Doug Harmon.”
Turning Stacy around so she could look at herself in the mirror, she waited for her reaction. She held her breath, not daring to speak.
At first, Stacy did nothing. Not a word, not even a blink. Then she leaned forward, getting closer to the mirror. “Is that me?”
Tatum grinned and clapped her hands. “That’s you, Stacy Willum, and you are one hot babe.”
A small smile came to Stacy’s lips as she turned her head first one way then the other to admire her new look. Suddenly she started to tear up again.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
Stacy took the tissue Tatum offered her and dabbed her eyes. “I do. It’s just that…”
> “It’s just what?” Tatum slid her hands along Stacy’s arms, trying to comfort her.
“I look like my momma.”
Tatum’s eyes welled up. “And I’ll bet you’re as beautiful as she was. She’d be very proud of you.” She turned the girl around to face her. “Don’t you see? Your momma wouldn’t want you to live with a man like Doug. She’d want you to be with someone who treats you right. Please let me help you. Stay here. Tonight and until you find another place, somewhere far away from Doug.”
Turning her back toward the mirror, she added, “The woman in the mirror is you, and you’re going to do better for yourself. Say yes and let me help you.”
Stacy opened her mouth to speak, and Tatum clung to the hope that she’d finally agree to leave him.
“Yes.”
Tatum hugged the girl, her joy overwhelming her. “I’m so happy for you!”
The sound of the front door banging open jolted them apart and sent them running into the bedroom. Tatum motioned for Stacy to stay back then inched over to peek out the window. “Oh, shit.”
“It’s Doug, isn’t it?” Stacy’s voice was only a whisper yet filled with fear.
Doug Harmon backed down the steps of the porch and lifted his gaze to the second story. “Stacy, where the hell are you?”
Tatum jerked away from the window and found that the old Stacy, the terrified waif of a girl, had returned. Stacy scurried toward the bedroom door.
“No! Stacy, don’t go.”
She hurried after the girl as she flew along the hallway and down the stairs. Tatum’s father was about to open the front door when Stacy slammed to a stop on the last step. He turned, and the angry expression on his face changed into wonder.
“Stacy? You look amazing.”
Tatum rushed around Stacy to stand at her father’s side. “She does. She really does.”
“Stacy Willum, get the fuck out here right now. If I have to come in and get you, you’re going to be sorry.”
Her father’s face morphed into a face of fury. Grabbing the doorknob, he flung the door open and stepped onto the porch. “Mr. Harmon, do you know what time it is?”
